


A Little Drop of Magic

by jujubiest



Series: The New Marauders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dursley children, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the morning of her 11th birthday, Verna Grace Dursley wakes up early and can't go back to sleep. She's too excited, though she doesn't really know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Drop of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought it would be really interesting to have one of Dudley's kids turn out to be magical. Apparently, Rowling even considered it, but eschewed the idea based on her belief that any latent magical talent would "never survive" Vernon Dursley's genetics.
> 
> That attitude honestly bothers me. I'm sure Rowling was being pithy and clever with that statement, but given that she's our one and only source for what is and is not HP canon, I wish she hadn't said that.
> 
> Vernon wasn't the way he was because he was born non-magical. He actively chose to be as ordinary and mundane as possible, and rejected anything magical or even just different out of fear. That's not something that's predetermined by your blood, and suggesting that it is, to me, runs counter to one of the central themes of the books themselves.
> 
> So I created Verna.

The sky outside her bedroom window was still blue-black when Verna Grace Dursley opened her eyes, but she sat up and reached for the lamp on her side table; she was too excited to go back to sleep.

Today, she was officially eleven years old.

Not that eleven was that big a deal, really. Ten was a much bigger deal, and twelve would be almost a teenager so that would be  _huge,_ but eleven was just sort of in the middle. But it was a year older, and that was enough for Verna Grace, who was, as her mother always said, frightfully excitable.

She sat in the dark with her knees hugged to her chest, trying to keep all her nervous energy inside. Her mom and dad would be cross if she woke them up before the sun was even out, and she didn't want to start out her birthday on a sour note. Even if it felt like she might explode if she didn't do  _something_ to express how happy she was.

Eleven.

There would be a cake, and presents. All her friends would be coming over, and her cousins, too.

Verna Grace had three cousins, on her dad's side only. Her mom never had any brothers or sisters. Neither did her dad, for that matter...but his mom had had a sister, and she had a son who'd lived with her dad and his parents. So that was kind of like a brother. That was her Uncle Harry. Not her real uncle...actually her cousin, too. But it felt weird to just call him "Harry" the way she called her cousins "James," and "Al," and "Lily." And calling him "Mr. Potter" sounded silly, too. So Uncle Harry he was, and there was Aunt Ginny as well. She was a very pretty lady, with bright red hair that Verna Grace envied intensely. She would give anything to be able to switch that brilliant red with her own plain brown.

After what seemed like an eternity of aimless thinking, the first rays of morning peeked out over the horizon and spilled pale blue-gold light across her bedroom. Verna Grace was out of bed like a shot, across her room, and careening down the hall towards her parents' room. She skidded to a stop outside the door, and knocked vigorously.

"Mum, Dad! It's my birthday! I'm eleven today!"

"Bugger," she heard her dad mumble from behind the door. Then, louder, "Alright Sweet Pea...we'll be up in a minute."

Her face broke into a bright smile. "I'll be downstairs!" She called back. She barely heard her mother's admonishment as she twirled and bounded down the stairs.

"No opening your presents until we're all down!"

Verna Grace bounced into the kitchen, already looking bright and pristine in the faint glow of early morning. She headed for the pantry and began to pull things from the shelves, carrying them to the kitchen counter one by one and arranging them to her liking.

Most days, her mother made breakfast. Verna Grace wasn't allowed to use the stove by herself, but she loved to cook. Her favorite hobby was experimenting with ingredients to make something new, and she took every opportunity to cajole her mum into letting her take over in the kitchen. She was rarely allowed to cook a whole dinner alone, but sometimes she got to do a side dish, or dessert. And outside of mealtimes, her parents indulged her culinary aspirations. They only had three rules: she was never to use the oven or stove alone, she was never to mess about with her mother's wine or her dad's brandy, and she must always eat whatever she made.

Verna thought these rules were fair enough, although she occasionally cheated on the third one. Some of her less successful experiments were just too horrible, so she fed them to her older brother in exchange for half that week's allowance. Lyle could eat anything. She figured it was because he was a boy, since her dad was the same way.

She figured since it was her birthday, her mum just  _had_ to let her make breakfast. Maybe even the whole thing on her own, for the first time ever. So she was busily pulling out everything she would need.

Verna Grace was just placing the tomatoes on the counter when she heard an odd tapping sound at the window. She turned to see what it was.

It was an owl. A great, gray owl like she'd seen on television, only this one was real, and it was tappingon the kitchen window with one claw. She could almost swear it looked impatient. There appeared to be something clutched in the other.

She put down the tomatoes and went over to the window. Cautiously, she reached to undo the latch and pushed the window open, just a bit. Not enough to let the owl all the way in, just enough for it to raise its occupied claw...

...and slide a thick envelope into her hands.

Verna Grace caught the letter with a look of awe on her face. Had an  _owl_ just delivered the morning post? That seemed impossible...but she'd just seen it with her own eyes.

She examined the letter, so engrossed she didn't even notice the owl's departure. The envelope was made of a heavy, yellowish parchment. There was an address on it, in bright green ink...but it wasn't quite like any address she'd ever read.

> _Miss Verna Grace Dursley_
> 
> _Bedroom at the End of the Hall_
> 
> _4 Privet Drive_
> 
> _Little Whinging_
> 
> _Surrey_

Who on earth could know her address right down to the  _bedroom?_ And how did it get here without a stamp? She turned the envelope over, and stared. It was closed with an old-fashioned wax seal, like she'd seen in movies and read about people using in books. The wax was purple, and bore a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake, all surrounding a large letter H.

"Good heavens, Verna Grace. Did you have to drag the whole pantry onto the counter?" Her mother's voice came from the doorway into the hall, sounding sleepy and amused.

"Sorry, mum," Verna Grace said, distracted. "I was hoping you'd let me make breakfast. I got a letter."

"A letter? Already? Probably a birthday card. Go ahead and open it...I suppose you can make breakfast, too, as long as it's nothing too strange. I'm going to put the coffee on and have a shower...don't start using the stove until I get back."

"Promise," Verna Grace murmured. Her mother left the room. Alone once more, Verna Grace carefully broke the seal and opened the envelope. This wasn't just an ordinary birthday card. She could feel it.

She pulled out the letter and began to read.


End file.
